


The Blue Hours of Morning

by daisybrien



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: (they in love but scared to be basically), Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Post-The Eleventh Hour, Sharing a Bed, Trauma, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: Refuge takes its toll. Magnus and Taako talk it out, drunk on the living room floor.





	The Blue Hours of Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Are you still awake?

“Are you still awake…?”

Magnus can barely hear Taako over the rumble of Merle’s snores, his words slurred into the blackness of their living room. His words, anxious in tone, ooze with curiosity over something that the two of them know should stay unspoken, that all three had just tried to drown out by emptying bottles of liquor down their throats long past the time they should have retired to their rooms. Their last mission had been tough, enough that memories of the past that had been haunting him were yanked to the forefront of his mind like a sore, bleeding tooth. He doesn’t want to speak, can’t speak past the lump in his throat and the nausea in his stomach, unable to tell if either was from the alcohol in his system or Julia’s shining smile plastered on the inside of his eyelids whenever he closed them, the way he just barely remembered the smell of her hair as he watched himself tuck her head under his chin as he held her -

He stays silent as his mind drifts off, a hiccup bubbling its way up his throat. For once he doesn’t rush to an answer, taking the time to pretend he didn’t catch the words, that the drink had him blacked out on the sofa until morning.

“Magnus?” Taako’s voice is just slightly louder now, wobbly against a no doubt uncoordinated tongue. His drunken stupor was making him brave, as he pushed on for a reply.

“Yeah,” Magnus says. He turns away from the sofa, the carpet scratching against his cheek as he flops onto his back. He’s sure that even if he were asleep, Taako would persist to the point of shaking him awake. With his gut stirring the way it was, Magnus thought better than to let him get to that point. It was a really nice carpet. “I’m still awake.”

“Cool,” Taako hums up to the ceiling. Magnus almost laughs at that, hoping for the simplicity he craved right now instead of the confusing whirlwind of emotion making each of his breaths heavy. He hoped too soon, hearing something shuffle on the loveseat. “Today was fucked up, man.”

“Yeah,” Magnus sighs. He almost laughs again at how unintelligible his words are, his lips soft and useless as cotton. “Really fucked up.”

“So fucked up.”

“I know.”

“Like, what the fuck,” Taako continues, Magnus hushing his lilting melody of a voice when Merle snorts loudly, the two silent until he settles down into fitful sleep again. “Who even let a piece of dinnerware be that fucked up?”

“The who- whoever did it,” Magnus tries, scrunching his face as he tries to form his thoughts. “I’m gonna fight him.”

“I’ll help you, man,” Taako says. “‘M gonna help you do that. And whatever the hell it tried to show us, y’know, whatever horrible monstrosisity you got a flashback to.”

“No,” Magnus groans. He thinks of Julia’s hands, scarred and smooth, lines of age just barely starting to make their mark on them. “No, it’s not - it wasn’t bad. It didn’t show me a bad thing.”

“Then what the fuck did it show you, then?”

Magnus pauses, chewing on the thought of her for just a bit. He almost wants to reach out, to who, he doesn’t know; but he can hear Taako’s breath heavy in the humid air, imagines his fingers twisting through his hair with his nerves, with Magnus too far away to hold them to make him stop.

“My wife,” he says. He drags a hand over his face, wiping away something wet - drool? - on his chin.

“Shit,” Taako breathes. “Hell, Mags, ’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault,” Magnus assures. He tries to sit up, fails, tries again. Leans against the sofa for support.

“No, not- I don’t mean it like-” Taako interrupts himself with a huff, and Magnus can hear the cushions of the loveseat complaining against his shifting weight. “Coming here to you, trying to get comfort, when you’re fucked up over that. I’m fucked up, I don’t know.”

“We all are,” Magnus reassures, but he doesn’t think Taako’s listening to him now. Concern rears its head among the swirling thoughts, and Magnus is struck with the sudden urge to find Taako in the darkness as he riles in his own chaos.

“Gods know it was my fault,” Magnus catches Taako murmuring to himself.

There’s a beat of silence. “What did the chalice make you see?”

“Fuck,” Taako laughs, the cracked sound brittle and fragile as it pierces the room. “I messed up, I fucking messed up so bad-” Magnus hears a sob, the shuffle of feet on the carpet interrupted by a small bang.

“No, no, Taako, don’t move,” he urges, springing to his feet. He ignores the way the floor dips and rises beneath him. “You’re going to hurt yourself,” he continues as he makes his way towards where he thinks he is, and then finds him, soft and warm body all in one piece, trembling under his grip.

“‘S not your fault,” Magnus coos drunkenly, repeating the phrase over again as the two lean against each other in one shambling mess of an entity. They knock against the corridor walls as Magnus tries to lead Taako to his bed, bouncing back and forth like a lopsided pinball. They can only make it to Magnus’ bed before they trip over each other’s feet, sobbing and laughing at each other. He thinks that will have to be good enough.

“’S okay,” Magnus says again, to himself or Taako, he doesn’t know. The bedspring creaks as he all but drops Taako onto the mattress, thinking he was being tender in his daze. 

Hands grip his nightshirt, pulling him down. “No,” Taako says, the words choked and thick. Magnus obliges. “Stay.”

He settles in, lets Taako tuck his head under his chin and sprawl over his wide, firm chest. Magnus takes the balled fist in his shirt, brings it to his lips sloppily as it relaxes and admires its softness, the short fingers, the smooth, even feeling of its nails coated in matte paint.

“Forty people,” Taako whispers, lips pressed against Magnus’ collarbone. His voice is finally even, although weak and tired. “It should have been me.”

“No.” Magnus grips his shoulder, feels his eyes burn with tears and exhaustion. The thought of Taako not there, such an easy fit into the hollow piece of his puzzle of a life, made his bones ache, his head feel fuzzy. The thought of the bed empty, of him being alone right now, wet his eyes like the tears he can feel seeping into the fabric of his nightshirt. “Then I wouldn’t have you to save my ass.”

Taako snorts, the sound wet with snot and tears and booze. “Can’t have forty-one,” he mutters, and Magnus feels his muscles ease just slightly, just enough to allow him to rest.

“Good,” Magnus yawns. Sleep was dragging him down with sweetly clawing, gentle hands. His eyelids droop, his next words fading into a snore as he sees Julia’s smile again, relishing in Taako’s warmth all the same. “‘Cus you’re saving so many more th’n that.”

**Author's Note:**

> First taagnus can i get. a hell yeah.


End file.
